Page 63 of The Denver Alpha

She doesn’t say a word, hitting me with a look that I’ve seen many times instead.

“I know, I know. You wouldn’t tell me if you did,” I sigh. “What’s the use of you being a damn psychic anyways if you can’t help your own brother out?’

The corner of Astrid’s lips curl into a smug smile and she shrugs, sidestepping toward Brock and slipping her hand into his. “Listen, we’re gonna go make the rounds and say hello to everyone while you go invite Juliet to dinner tonight. Sam and Shay too.”

I narrow my eyes suspiciously, arching a brow. “What are you up to?”

She shrugs, batting her eyelashes innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, big bro!” she sing-songs, tugging Brock behind her as she starts to skip out of the room.

“Astrid!” I call after her, but she just ignores me, giggling softly to herself.

Damnit.

Have I mentioned how much I hate surprises?

25

Leave it to Astrid to pop up right when I’m more pissed off at her brother than I ever have been, intent on giving him the cold shoulder to make him suffer for it. It’s not as if I could turn down her dinner invitation. I’ve always liked Astrid and am happy to see her, even if it does mean sitting beside her brother and trying to play nice throughout the meal while suppressing the urge to stab him in the arm with my fork.

There’s no way the others don’t pick up on the tension between us. In fact, judging by the looks they’ve been throwing our way, I know they do. Cole is in full on business mode, all polite smiles and courtesy laughs, while I’m still silently fuming about this morning. I try to push it aside for the sake of everyone else, but I’m not near as skilled as Cole is when it comes to burying my emotions. I tend to wear them on my sleeve, which makes for a slightly awkward dinner.

It’s not all bad, though. Astrid and Brock announce that they’re expecting and we’re all over the moon for them. Brock is adorably jacked up about becoming a dad, more animated than I’ve ever seen him as he recounts the moment they found out. I actually used to have a huge crush on Brock, which seems so silly now. I mean sure, he’s attractive, but looking at him beside Cole, there’s no comparison. Despite how irritated I am with the Denver alpha, I can’t deny that the man is a fucking Adonis, all chiseled muscles and smoldering dark-eyed stares that have me clenching my thighs together beneath the table. I’m so drawn to him that resisting makes me physically ache.

As the dinner winds down, I excuse myself from the table and head for the bar in the corner of the dining room to replenish my glass of wine. I’ve barely started to pour it when I feel Cole creep up behind me, his approach causing the little hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. His presence is always so large, looming and almost palpable. I can feel the body heat radiating from him, his warmth washing over every inch of skin exposed by my backless dress. I hear his shallow breathing and see his hand land on the edge of the bar beside me. He grips onto it, knuckles turning white with his restraint as he leans in closer, lingering there for a beat. His warm breath fans my neck, sending a shiver skittering down my spine.

“Come to my room with me,” Cole murmurs, the deep tenor of his voice starting a riot in my chest.

“Why would I do that?” I ask quietly as I finish filling my glass. On the inside, my heart’s beating at a crazy rhythm, my thoughts running amok, while on the outside, I’m deceptively calm. Maybe I’ve picked up some tricks from Cole after all.

He leans in slightly, discreetly running a knuckle down my bare spine. The touch is soft, featherlight, but I feel it right down into the tips of my toes as they curl in my pumps. “Because you’ve been torturing me all night in that dress,” he growls.

Somehow, I remain the picture of composure. “Try again.”

“Because you can’t stay mad at me forever.”

I throw him a glance over my shoulder, arching a brow. “Wanna bet?”

Cole scowls, blowing out a harsh breath. “Fine. Because I’m sorry for being a dick this morning and I want to make it up to you, how about that?”

“Getting there,” I muse, picking up my wine glass and spinning around. I suck in a little gasp when we come face to face, Cole standing his ground and not backing up to give me a single inch. We’re both caught there for a suspended moment, invading each other’s space, breathing one another’s air.

“You know I’m not shy about getting on my knees for you,” Cole rasps, wetting his lips with his tongue as my eyes track the movement hungrily. My libido clearly hasn’t gotten the memo that we’re supposed to be pissed at Sergeant Tall, Dark, and Handsome right now. “But you’ve also been quite the brat today, haven’t you Juliet?” His fingertips graze my jawline, his brow lifting in question.

I’m…completely fucked.

It’s not fair that just the sight of him, the scent of him, makes me weak. Add in the mere suggestion of something dirty in that deep, gravelly voice of his and he’s got my defenses wearing paper thin- I’m practically putty in his hands. He must know, because he starts to lean in closer, like he knows he’s got me on the hook. I raise my wine glass between us before he can close the gap further, taking a big sip that drains half the glass.

Liquid courage.

“I suppose I’ll let you try to make it up to me,” I say, licking the taste of wine from my lips.

Cole plucks my glass from my hand, setting it on the bar behind me. “Let’s go,” he grunts, grabbing me by the elbow and towing me toward the doorway.

“You two outta here?” Astrid calls out, and I’m suddenly reminded of the fact that we’ve got an audience- one that includes a close friend of my brother. I cringe inwardly as I turn back, mind racing for an excuse- but then I see the knowing smile on Astrid’s lips and know it’s futile. Damn seer. “Have fun,” she quips, tossing me a wink.

I open my mouth to reply, but how the hell do you respond to that? Luckily I don’t have to agonize over it for long, because Cole’s a man on a mission. He pulls me out of the room with him, his arm sliding around my waist and tugging me closer as soon as we’re out of sight. We start down the hall together and I can feel his urgency in every step, the tension ratcheting up between us. It’s at a fever pitch by the time we reach his bedroom. As he pulls the door open and ushers me inside, my heart’s beating so hard that it feels like it could burst from my chest.

His room is just like him- clean, organized, and not betraying a single personal detail. I take in the tasteful, modern furnishings as I advance a step inside, inhaling sharply when I hear the ominous clicking of the door lock behind me.

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